In previous videos, we've looked into the deeds of some of World War II's most heroic soldiers
and medics. Now, were climbing into the cockpit to fly beside some of the most heroic pilots to
grace the fiery skies of the Second World War. Don't forget, this is part two of two-parter,
and if an aerial ace from your country doesn't appear in this second part,
they may have in the first. Another thing to be aware of is that I've not included
every heroic aerial deed in this video, just what I think are most epic ones.
We're starting part two strong with Richard "Dick" Ira Bong. Yes,
Dick Bong, who was promoted to Major Dick Bong in 1944.
Bong was born in Wisconsin and maintained an interest in flying from an early age,
building models and such. In college, he put down his red cup and enrolled in a Civilian
Pilot Training Program, and a couple of years later, in May 1941, he enlisted in the USAAC
Aviation Cadet Program, where his mad skills were recognized. Less than a year after that,
he was a pilot; then he learnt to fly the Lockheed P38 Lightning, a twin-engine in
which he would become America's top World War II ace and an utter menace to the Japanese.
In June 1942, Bong was slapped on the wrist and grounded after flying low over a civilian
property and being accused of "looping" the Golden Gate Bridge with three other
rascals. Bong's mad skills couldn't be ignored, however; in November, he was
assigned to a squadron based in Port Moresby, New Guinea, claiming his first aerial victory
over a Japanese Zero in the Battle of Buna-Gona. Mid-1943, Bong took out four more Japanese craft,
and then he went on leave in the US, where he met a lady friend. Returning to the fight in 1944,
he named his P-38 after her — "Marge" — and then shot down plane after plane before taking leave
again. When he took to the sky in the Philippines campaign, Bong brought his kill count up to forty,
breaking the American records of World War I. Like boy-faced Nazi ace Erich Hartmann,
Bong liked it up close and personal, taking out foes from headbutt range and eating their debris.
Unfortunately for Dick Bong and his wife — yes, he married Marge, the woman, not the plane — his
permanent leave, which he was awarded in January 1945, turned to permanent sleep later that year.
The aircraft he was test-flying malfunctioned and went up in flames. Bong was too close to
the ground to deploy his parachute; he crashed into the earth with the remnants of the plane.
A speed-demon in his youth, James "Johnnie" Edgar Johnson went on to become the British
Royal Air Force's highest-scoring ace, though not before his applications were twice rejected
by the RAF. With his third attempt August 1939 accepted, Johnnie flew in all sorts of
offensives over Nazi-occupied Europe, slicing the sky in the Dieppe Raid, the Battle of Normandy,
and the Battle of the Bulge, as well as in many other crucial operations.
His first aerial victory was in June 1941, where he blasted a German Bf 109 from the cockpit of
a Supermarine Spitfire; after this, his K/D ratio began a steady ascent into legend. In August, the
RAF were outnumbered three to one by the Luftwaffe over France, and the RAF bounced a portion of the
German Bf 109s, breaking their formation into a chaotic mass of dogfighting planes. Johnnie
knew he had to escape this metal-storm, so he dove out of it, giving three BF 109s opportunity
attacks. Quick and daring, Johnnie escaped, taking one of those BF 109s out as he did.
Early in 1943, Johnnie painted his initials upon and flew a Spitfire EN398. A wing
commander at this point, he implemented newer, safer tactics for aerial combat,
hating — and often abandoning — ground attacks. His finger-four formation facilitated
major victories for his wing in July 1943, earning the wing the nickname "Wolfpack".
Johnnie's made sure his K/D continued its steady climb, using his preferred technique
of panicking enemy aircraft with intense fire and then knocking them out of the sky
one by one. If the RAF had rejected Johnnie's application a third time back in August 1939,
the RAF would've been down the thirty-four confirmed individual victories claimed by the man,
as well as the many others victories he shared with the men flying by his side.
Johnnie survived World War II and went on to fly in the Korean War;
he died at eighty-five from cancer.
Like Richard Bong, in that he also got into flying because of model aircraft,
and like Nazi Erich Hartmann with his intimate fighting style, George Frederick Beurling
was an aggressive pilot with the eyes and trigger-finger to back it up. Unlike Johnnie,
however, Beurling wasn't a team player, and this — atop him not wanting to sink pints
and scorch tobacco — made him quite unpopular with his fellow pilots and
superiors. While he later became "The Falcon of Malta," he was first of all "Screwball."
While Canadian, it seems all Beurling cared about was getting in the cockpit. Rejected by the Royal
Canadian Air Force, he tried to join the Fins and then the Brits. The latter accepted him.
He mastered running and gunning, and he claimed his first aerial victory in May 1942,
turning a German Fw 190 into hot metal and fire. He then destroyed another German fighter without
permission, cementing his reputation as a "Screwball." Beurling was then shipped to
Gibraltar, where he flew in the defence of Malta. Over the island, he wasted several Italian craft,
claiming ace-hood on the 10th of July. On the 17th, Beurling went HAM, taking
out some of Italy's and Germany's best pilots and bringing his count up to eight. In August,
he was shot down himself, though he managed to survive by executing a successful belly landing.
Throughout his time tearing up the skies of Malta and shedding the name "Screwball," Beurling was
shot down four times. He also survived when the B-24 ferrying him to Britain crashed into the
sea — he was actually on his way there to recover after being shot down and hospitalized already.
Beurling then took twenty-seven kills back with him to Canada, where he was transferred to the
Royal Canadian Air Force. He upped his count a little more, though, flying abreast the Canadians,
his victories weren't enough to mask his lack of discipline and abrasive personality, and
Beurling was grounded after taking his last kill from the sky over France. He was then honourably
discharged, having stacked up thirty-one individual kills and just one shared kill.
Beurling — again, wanting only to be in the cockpit — was flying for
the Israeli Air Force in 1948 when he crashed and died. Before his demise,
he never quite adjusted to civilian life; he liked flying and ending lives too much.
How's this for a nickname — Ivan the Terrible. This guy, Ivan Nikitovich
Kozhedub was the highest scoring Soviet ace of World War II, and that's if we're going
with his confirmed victories, which are just over half of the victories he claimed himself.
As it was with many pilots, Ivan was no neanderthal before the cockpit,
graduating from a "chemical technical school" in 1940 and from Chuguyevsk Military Air School
the year after. Fortunately for the Nazi's, the air school kept Ivan as an instructor for two
years before releasing him. Ivan's debut was in the Battle of Kursk, early in July 1943,
when he shredded a German Stuka. By the 16th, he'd more than earned his ace-hood,
having snatched up eight victories. Ivan flew over Soviet fronts in the iconic Lavochkin La-7,
which he considered to be the best fighter to carve the skies of World War II,
and in which he claimed to have reached speeds of 700 kilometres per hour.
Ivan made good use of deflection shooting, though he also developed a taste for getting
half up the enemy's exhaust before unleashing his Soviet load. After he mastered this, he became
truly "terrible," making an absolute mess of the Luftwaffe. His killstreak spiked over the Dnieper
River, where, over ten days, he accumulated eleven kills. And he just kept going, earning
his first "Hero of the Soviet Union" at twenty aerial victories and another two by March 1945.
By the end of the war, Ivan boasted sixty-two confirmed individual kills,
but he said "[...] [T]his figure requires revision. [...] I reckon
that my personal score actually is in excess of 100 [...]."
Surviving World War II wasn't enough. Ivan served in Korea, commanding a Fighter Air Division,
though not being allowed to enter combat himself. He then sat behind a desk,
tending to air force paperwork and dreaming of the days when he made Nazis soil their trousers.
Stanislaw Skalski embodied Polish ferocity in the German invasion of Poland in 1939, though he also
exhibited a softer side which, I think, stands out more than the fact he was the first Allied
ace in World War II, having claimed six victories between the 1st and 16th of September alone.
After shooting down a German Hs 126, Skalski landed aside the wreckage,
captured the crew, and then bandaged those wounded before delivering them
to an ambulance. Imagine literally landing and getting out of your plane
to help an enemy that just blitzkrieged its way into your country. What a guy.
The next day, Skalski was evacuated to Romania; he boarded a ship and, using Beirut as a stepping
stone, eventually got to France. Early in 1940, Stanislaw sailed to Great Britain,
staying in a camp for Polish pilots before being assigned to the RAF and chopping
up the Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain. Already engaged with a German Messerschmitt,
Stanislaw was flanked by a Bf 109, and his plane went up in smoke. Burnt and otherwise wounded,
he evacuated, losing consciousness in the process;
he woke sometime after in a beetroot field, and the Canadians tended to him.
Recovering, Skalski went on to become the commander of a Polish squadron in March 1942,
flying sorties over France before taking charge of another Polish unit and then
a British RAF Squadron, which he led in the invasions of Sicily and Italy;
no other Pole had commanded any RAF units at this point.
Overall, Skalski gunned down between eighteen and twenty-two German and Italian planes,
though for all his success, the poor guy was arrested on false
charges of espionage after the war and sentenced to death in Poland. Thankfully,
this charge was swapped for a life sentence, and then, in 1965,
he was released. Skalski joined the military again and remained in it until retirement.
Some twenty years after retiring, he met with one of the German
pilots he'd rescued back in 1939. Some stories have a happy ending. Sort of.
A naval cadet in his youth, Adolph Gysbert Malan became known as "Sailor Malan" to his
fellow pilots. Like Canadian George Beurling, Afrikaner South African Sailor Malan was a
British dominion pilot in the British Royal Air Force, though Sailor volunteered for the RAF after
serving in the British Royal Naval Reserve. Sailor was announced a "pilot" early in 1937,
and in September 1939, literally hours after war was declared,
Sailor saw some action in the sky. Only, the "enemy" planes weren't enemies at all
but another squadron of the RAF. Sailor's squadron shot two RAF planes out of the sky,
killing one of the pilots. It got a little hairy after that, but everyone, including Sailor,
was let off. Maybe it was a good thing. Sailor went on to fly over Dunkirk in May 1940, earning
himself ace-hood and a Distinguished Flying Cross in this battle alone. In August, Sailor commanded
his squadron in the Battle of Britain. His strict command style paid off here; in just one day,
his unit claimed thirty-eight victories. A methodological pilot, Sailor even had a set of
clear rules for fighting in the air; of Sailor's ten commandments, these are my favourite three:
6: Make your decisions promptly. It is better to
act quickly even though your tactics are not the best.
9: Initiative, aggression, air discipline,
and teamwork are words that MEAN something in Air Fighting.
And 10: Go in quickly – punch hard – get out!
These obviously worked out for the Boer. He ended his fighting career in 1941 with
twenty-seven individual victories and seven shared victories. Sailor was RAF's leading
ace in his time, though James "Johnnie" Johnson bested his score later in the war
It's safe to say Sailor was more of a team player than Beurling, and certainly more social,
known for throwing cabaret parties and hunt balls, and rolling the dice,
if you know what I mean. More than that, he was, like many pilots, a bit of a celebrity,
essential to the morale of Allied air force and civilians alike. In December 1941, Sailor Malan
was immortalised in a portrait by Cuthbert Orde. This right here, people, is a good looking man.
Unfortunately, square-jawed, courageous Sailor Malan met a bit of an undignifying end,
perishing at just fifty-three from Parkinson's disease.
Ioannis Agorastos "John" Plagis was born in the British colony of Southern Rhodesiato Greek
parents. While Plagis volunteered for the Southern Rhodesian Air Force at the start of the war,
he was denied due to his Greek heritage. After the Italians invaded Greece in October 1940 and
Greece joined the Allies, Plagis tried again, though now for the British RAF.
In March 1942, Plagis was assigned to the defence of Malta, where his Southern Rhodesian friend Doug
Leggo flew an early morning offensive against the Germans, who were bombing the island's vital
airfields. Plagis tried to stop Leggo, who had not slept for over twenty-four hours, from flying,
but Leggo hopped in the cockpit anyway, getting absolutely minced by the Germans up in the morning
sky. Bailing out of his mortally wounded craft, Leggo's parachute was either attacked or otherwise
compromised, and he plummeted to his end. Plagis sought revenge, vowing to shoot down ten enemy
planes. He scored the first of those just five days later, and then, on April Fools' Day 1942,
downed forty in a single day. Ha. No. April Fools. Just four. But this was enough for Plagis to
become an ace and receive the Distinguished Flying Cross, for which the citation read: "With complete
indifference to odds against him, he presses home his attacks with skill and courage [...]."
Before leaving for England, where he recovered from malnutrition, scabies, and general fatigue,
Plagis had avenged Leggo, and after some action over France, Plagis flew in the invasions of
Normandy, France, and the Low Countries. He was knocked out of the sky over the Netherlands,
coming away with only minor injuries and climbing right back into the fray.
While Plagis's kill-count was a little lower than the other ace's mentioned in this video, he still
claimed sixteen confirmed victories, becoming the highest-scoring Southern Rhodesian — and pilot
of Greek heritage — in World War II. Those four kills in one day are nothing to laugh at either.
Like Sailor Malan, Plagis died young,
at fifty-four of fifty-five, with sources saying he took his own life.
The aces of World War II bathed in glory. They were celebrities and, a lot of the time, dextrous,
intelligent, and courageous individuals, and, for them, getting shot down didn't always mean death;
many the aces in this two-part video evacuated their doomed planes and/or
survived crash landings, only to get right back into that cockpit. With that said,
there were also many other aces and other, non-ace pilots who met gruesome ends. Just
think of Plagis's friend Leggo. Imagine spinning through the sky,
clawing at nothing, knowing full well that you were accelerating towards your own demise. Grim.
Anyway, guys, I hope you enjoyed this two-part on the most heroic pilots of World War II. If
you liked this video and want to see more like it and my previous videos on the most heroic
medics and the most feared/known soldiers, please leave a suggestion in the comments.